by Ian Shimwell
SERIES ONE
Play Six
www.thearmchairdetective.moonfruit.com
THE
ARMCHAIR
DETECTIVE’s
Last Ever
Case
Ian Shimwell
The Armchair Detective’s Last Ever Case Copyright Ian Shimwell © 2012
ALSO AVAILABLE IN SERIES ONE:
The Armchair Detective
The Armchair Detective and the Manor-House Mystery
The Armchair Detective and the Celebrity Stalker
The Armchair Detective On Holiday
The Armchair Detective and the Psychological Secret
Contents
Cast List
Act One
Act Two
Act Three
Cast List (continued)
CAST LIST
TRENCH
OLD TOM
SALLY-ANNE
EDITOR LAW
(Cast List continued after the conclusion.)
ACT ONE
OPENING MYSTERY MUSIC
OLD TOM: Come in, young man, the door is open.
(We hear TRENCH open the front door, rummage about a bit in the hall – and then enter the living room.)
OLD TOM: It’s been a long time, Trench.
(TRENCH sits himself down.)
TRENCH: Your armchair is the same as ever.
OLD TOM: As I am.
TRENCH: I’ve not ignored you on purpose, Old Tom. It’s just that – believe it or not – I haven’t come across anything for quite a while that you could help me with – until now.
OLD TOM: I’m listening.
TRENCH: Oh, this time I have a real mystery for you. It baffles me just thinking about it!
OLD TOM: I’m definitely listening now…
TRENCH: Hang on, there are two cups of tea on the table. Having not seen you for a fair old time now, how did you know to expect me?
OLD TOM: As I’ve no doubt told you before, young Trench, I often make you a cup of tea, as a precautionary measure, just in case you do visit. It should be cold enough by now, so drink up.
(We can hear OLD TOM and TRENCH sip their teas.)
TRENCH: As I was saying, Old Tom, about this latest mystery. It’s truly bizarre, it really is…
OLD TOM: We will come to that all in good time, my friend. First tell me, what has been going on with you in the many, many moons since your last visit?
TRENCH: Sally-Anne has a new boyfriend, Jonathan – I think his name is. She has begun to see more and more of him in London. Editor Law is spending more and more time on the golf course. Rumour has it that he’ll soon be going for early retirement.
OLD TOM: Which leaves poor Trenchy all alone. I imagine it’s been difficult holding the fort at the Stokeham Herald lately. Maybe that’s why you haven’t come to see me, you’ve been too busy!
TRENCH: Not exactly. When I was starting to struggle, Editor Law took on a new reporter, Dominic. We don’t seem to really get on but he did come recommended from the Ghoulmouth Gazette. In fact Geoffrey, remember whom I met in Fisherman’s Cove…
OLD TOM: I remember.
TRENCH: …recommended us to him.
OLD TOM: Spoken to Geoffrey then, have you?
TRENCH: No, actually – it was Dominic who mentioned Geoffrey.
OLD TOM: I see. Well, are you going to show me what you have dumped in my hallway?
TRENCH: How did you..?
OLD TOM: I do have ears, remember.
TRENCH: I’ll go and fetch it.
(TRENCH leaves the living room and returns with the object.)
OLD TOM: Is that the great mystery?
TRENCH: It certainly is.
OLD TOM: A black box?
TRENCH: Yes, odd isn’t it? It just appeared on my desk this morning. It had this note sellotaped onto it. Here, have a read.
OLD TOM: ‘Uncover the clues to solve the Stokeham mystery’. How intriguing. I didn’t even know there was a Stokeham mystery.
TRENCH: Neither did I. I’ve tried to open the box but it seems impenetrable. Maybe it’s made from the same material as the black boxes on an aircraft.
OLD TOM: A black box… about the size of a square shoe box… that won’t open… and somehow holds the secret to a new mystery. How utterly absorbing. Fetch me the hammer that you bought me – from the kitchen. We’ll smash it open.
(The BLACK BOX starts to speak. It clearly has an electronic voice. A whirring sound can be heard in the background when it does speak.)
BLACK BOX: Take me to the offices of Property Management Limited before sixteen hundred hours to discover your first clue.
OLD TOM: Amazing.
TRENCH: Sixteen hundred hours?
OLD TOM: That’s four o’clock, Trench.
TRENCH: Oh no, that only gives me barely half-an-hour to dash across town.
OLD TOM: You had better get a move on then – and sharpish.
TRENCH: Right.
OLD TOM: And Trench, don’t forget to finish your tea first – I insist.
TRENCH: Oh very well.
(TRENCH gulps the tea down.)
TRENCH: I’ll be off, but first, what do you think this is actually all about?
OLD TOM: I think it’s a trail, Trench. So follow it and see where it leads.
TRENCH: I’d better dash while the trails hot, then.
OLD TOM: Oh, and Trench.
TRENCH: (Says with frustration and urgency:) What is it now?
OLD TOM: Don’t forget your Black Box, you may actually need it.
TRENCH: Err, yeah – bye!
(Speedy music changes the scene.)
TRENCH: Of course, Property Management Limited, I’m at Stonebridge’s company.
(TRENCH bursts through the door.)
JILL: Err, Trench isn’t it? What are you doing here? And why are you holding a black box?
TRENCH: (Who’s obviously out of breath.) Don’t ask. Ms Jill Masterson, long time, no see.
JILL: I’m afraid Mr Stonebridge is out, assuming it is him you’ve come to see. Trench, what are you looking for?
TRENCH: I don’t know, but I’ve only two minutes left!
BLACK BOX: The first clue: Use the secretary as a pointer. You have ninety seconds remaining.
TRENCH: What the hell does it mean by..? You are not pointing at anything. Come on, think Trench think. But your shoes are pointed – and there are slight scuff marks on the tips… from underneath your desk! I know this is most unorthodox Jill, but would you mind moving away from your desk?
JILL: I don’t understand any of this.
TRENCH: (Who raises his voice.) Just do it!
JILL: (Affronted.) Really.
(JILL moves and TRENCH frantically scrambles underneath her desk.)
TRENCH: I can’t find anything.
BLACK BOX: Twenty seconds remaining.
TRENCH: Found it!
(TRENCH gets up.)
JILL: What is it?
TRENCH: A little, tiny black box. Let’s see what happens if I squeeze it – it opens… There’s a small black sheep inside.
JILL: Ah, cute.
TRENCH: It’s getting hot. Ouch.
(TRENCH drops it.)
BLACK BOX: One second remaining…
(There is a very small explosion.)
TRENCH: How strange, there must have been a small incendiary device inside the sheep – to go off at the appointed time. Now, there’s nothing left of my so-called first clue.
JILL: I think I preferred you before, when you were returning golf balls.
TRENCH: Sorry about all this, Jill. How are you these days? Are you still ‘frie
nds’ with Sam Stonebridge?
JILL: Oh no, that all ended with that business at Mayflower Court. Our relationship now is strictly professional.
TRENCH: You might be interested to know that ex-sergeant Jenkins died soon after discovering the Mayflower flats were to remain.
JILL: Good. It gives me great pleasure knowing that the man I hold responsible for my father’s death died penniless literally on top of a fortune.
TRENCH: Goodbye Jill.
(TRENCH closes the door as he leaves.)
TRENCH: Well, at least she’s not bitter and twisted!
(The BLACK BOX whirrs into life.)
BLACK BOX: Meet contact at Stokeham Station at seventeen hundred hours.
TRENCH: Hmm ‘contact’? Well, the bad news is that the station is the other side of town. The good news is I’ve plenty of time – a brisk walk will do. At least this box will keep me fit!
(Music and train sounds change the scene.)
(We can hear the busy sounds of a train station including the typically ineffectual loud speaker system.)
TRENCH: I wonder who my contact is – it could be anyone. I wouldn’t know him if I fell over him – or her. Wait a minute, seventeen hundred – five o’clock. Sally-Anne’s train from London is due at five. My contact must be her!
(We hear the train pull into the station and stop. The door opens as the passengers step onto the platform.)
TRENCH: (Who shouts:) Sally-Anne! Sally-Anne, over here.
SALLY-ANNE: Trench, what are you doing here?
BLACK BOX: Contact has been made. Take me to thirteen, Primrose Avenue before seventeen hundred and thirty hours to discover your second clue.
TRENCH: We’ve only half-an-hour – but I know where Primrose Avenue is. If we dash, we should make it with a bit of time to spare. Where’s your luggage, by the way?
SALLY-ANNE: Luckily, I left it at Jonathan’s. Trench, what’s going on here? And why are you carrying a black box that speaks?
TRENCH: Come on, we’ll have to go. I’ll explain what I can on the way.
SALLY-ANNE: I was enjoying myself in London. Going out to the theatre with Jonathan; frequenting fancy restaurants. Why have I come back to this?
TRENCH: (Says more loudly:) Come on!
(Busy music moves things along.)
TRENCH: Thirteen Primrose Avenue. We’ve made it with five minutes to spare.
SALLY-ANNE: I’ll knock, shall I?
(SALLY-ANNE knocks on the door – which is opened after a few moments.)
TRENCH: Sawn-Off! What are you doing here?
SAWN-OFF: Visiting my mother. Hang on, what are you doing here?
MOTHER: (Calling from the living room.) Please invite your friends in, Cedric. You know how I love to meet your chums.
SAWN-OFF: (Who sighs:) Yes, mother.
TRENCH: Cedric! Cedric?
(They all walk inside and sit down in the living room.)
MOTHER: That’s right – you young people sit down. In a moment, I’ll make us all a nice cup of tea. Now dear, introduce your lovely friends to me.
SAWN-OFF: This is Trench and Sally…
SALLY-ANNE: …Anne.
SAWN-OFF: Still seeing Marcus?
SALLY-ANNE: No, that fizzled out a while ago…
TRENCH: Err, how’s Happy, Sawn-Off – I mean Cedric?
SAWN-OFF: In custody, I’m afraid. He’s recently confessed to a series of crimes. Some of which he somehow committed when he was last detained. Don’t worry though, my Brief will soon have him out again.
SALLY-ANNE: I’m so touched.
TRENCH: And Happy will be happy?
MOTHER: It warms my heart that my son looks after his staff so much.
SALLY-ANNE: Doesn’t it just.
MOTHER: And it’s so nice to see friends reminiscing over old times.
TRENCH: How’s business in west London, Sawn- err, Cedric?
SAWN-OFF: Satisfactory. To establish authority though, I had to break a few knee-ca… ca…ca…
MOTHER: Yes dear..?
SAWN-OFF: I had to break a few err, free flowers in. You know, give some away to make a good start in my floral business.
MOTHER: So generous… You always have been.
TRENCH: Yes, unbelievable. Sorry to change the subject, but has anyone come across a very small black box?
SAWN-OFF: No, Trench – but you’re holding one, why?
BLACK BOX: The second clue: Trouble can brew when left alone. You have ninety seconds remaining.
TRENCH: Of course, I’ll make the tea!
SALLY-ANNE: I’ll help.
(TRENCH and SALLY-ANNE rush into the kitchen.)
TRENCH: Quick the tea pot, where is it?
SALLY-ANNE: (Who opens a cupboard.) In this cupboard. (She picks it up.) It’s an old ‘Brown Betty’!
TRENCH: Never mind, open it.
SALLY-ANNE: There’s something inside… How odd, a small black box.
TRENCH: Squeeze it.
SALLY-ANNE: Squeeze it?
BLACK BOX: Twenty seconds remaining.
TRENCH: To open it, hurry.
SALLY-ANNE: Very well. (She squeezes it open.) It’s a toy, model sports car.
TRENCH: Now, drop it.
SALLY-ANNE: This is getting more weird by the minute.
(SALLY-ANNE drops the car on the floor.)
BLACK BOX: One second remaining.
(There is a small explosion.)
SALLY-ANNE: Engine trouble?
MOTHER: (Says from the living room.) Everything all right dears?
SALLY-ANNE: Yes, wonderful. Just wonderful.
(Slightly slower music ends this scene.)
(TRENCH and SALLY-ANNE are walking along a pavement.)
TRENCH: It was so nice to see that Sawn-Off has turned over a new leaf.
SALLY-ANNE: Yeah, right.
BLACK BOX: Initiating stand-by mode. Await further instructions in due course.
SALLY-ANNE: ‘Further instructions’. Arrogant little fellow, isn’t he?
TRENCH: At least it means I can have a break from all this dashing about. I think I’ll go back to the office. Coming?
SALLY-ANNE: No, I’m going to go home to finally freshen up. See yah.
(A brief interlude of music moves things along.)
(DOMINIC is typing away in the office of the Stokeham Herald, but pauses when TRENCH walks in. He occasionally types again during their conversation.)
TRENCH: Dominic, who’s Editor Law locked himself up with, in his office?
DOMINIC: I’ve really no idea.
TRENCH: He looked like a bald-headed business man.
DOMINIC: (Who sighs, obviously annoyed at being interrupted.) I assume you’re not talking about Editor Law?
TRENCH: Err no. Our editor has a full head of hair, albeit grey. There’s a rumour circling around the secretaries that the meeting’s about closing the Stokeham Herald down.
DOMINIC: I’m afraid them – and you have that quite wrong. Editor Law is in discussions to sell this newspaper. In that event, I’m sure things would run more or less the same.
TRENCH: I thought you didn’t know who the mystery man was.
DOMINIC: I don’t, Trench. But Law told me himself he’s thinking of selling to someone – whether or not it was that gentleman you saw – I’ve really no idea.
TRENCH: Editor Law told you – really? He’s not mentioned anything to me.
DOMINIC: He probably will at some point. Trench, what have you been carrying that black box for? And why have you dumped it on the desk?
TRENCH: It’s connected with a story I’m working on. It’s rather complicated, so I won’t bore you with the details.
DOMINIC: I see. Working on an exclusive scoop, are we?
TRENCH: Not really, but it has given me the run-around. Have you been busy?
DOMINIC: I was trying to finish this article on car-parking problems in central Stokeham, before I was interrupted.
TRENCH: Carry on, don’t mind me, Dominic. I would
n’t want to keep you from such a dynamic story.
DOMINIC: People still have to park their cars, Trench. It may be boring to you but you may find it is important to the general public at large.
TRENCH: Maybe, but I think most people should use the bus or better still walk – or cycle.
DOMINIC: Anything else before I try and do some more work?
TRENCH: Yes, do you like it here, Dominic? Were things more regimented at the Ghoulmouth Gazette with Geoffrey?
DOMINIC: Working here at the Stokeham Herald is more challenging. At the Gazette, I was used to being with professionals who worked damned hard – and got results.
TRENCH: (Says just loud enough for DOMINIC to hear:) It’s a good job I’m not easily offended.
DOMINIC: Fortunately, I like challenges.
TRENCH: Good for you, Dominic, good for you. Oh, and when you’ve finished on your car-parking story, make a start on the obituaries. (Then says quietly:) Preferably your own…
(Reflective music finishes the scene.)
TRENCH: So, Old Tom, the clues so far are a black sheep and a toy car.
OLD TOM: A toy sports car.
TRENCH: Yes, is that important?
OLD TOM: I’m not sure. So, what can we deduce from the evidence so far?
TRENCH: Hmm, we’re looking for a secret institute that uses sheep to drive sports cars?
OLD TOM: Very good, Trenchy. It doesn’t really seem to make sense though, does it? I see you’ve brought your little friend along.
TRENCH: Come along, Black Box, say hello to Uncle Tom.
(The only response is silence.)
OLD TOM: Shy little fellow, isn’t he?
TRENCH: Oh, I don’t know – he soon speaks when it suits him.
OLD TOM: How are things at the office?
TRENCH: Not good. I’m not sure I like Dominic and it seems Editor Law is considering selling-up.
OLD TOM: Interesting… I assume it was Dominic who gave you that ‘information’? Never mind, Trench – have a soft biscuit. You can make some tea later.
TRENCH: Why not? We don’t really need the tea yet anyway, these biscuits are that soft they’d probably disintegrate on sight, at the thought of dunking them!
(They both happily munch on their biscuits for a few moments.)
